Absent
by spicy.pepper19
Summary: "It is my sad duty to inform the faculty and student body of the death of one of our own students this morning. A car hit this young sophomore as she was walking to school. She died about half an hour ago." Puckleberry Oneshot


**A/N: This story is dedicated to Conor Lynch, a junior, who was killed Tuesday in a hit-and-run. RIP Conor.**

** As always, I don't own anythin... Danggg...**

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Puck yawned and flexed his guns lazily. _Damn first period… Why can't school start at a fucking NORMAL hour? _He was seriously ready to just get up and walk out of class to make out with Santana in the janitor's closet, but he had promised his ma that morning that he wouldn't miss any more Spanish classes ("_You need to know how to make me burritos when I'm old and have arthritis, Noah!"). _

Still, that didn't mean that the class wasn't boring as fuck. He glanced around for someone to tease, hang with, or make out with until Mr. Shue finished putting gel in his hair. Sylvester was right. The dude used _way_ too much.

He scanned the room for his usual targets. Santana was busy explaining airplanes to Brittany. Mike and his girlfriend were being totally Asian, with an open SAT study book on his desk and a constipated expression on their faces as they studied. Finn was staring at Quinn, not noticing that he was drooling from one of the corners of his mouth. Disgusted, he looked in the front of the room. Yep. There was Gay Boy, doing his nails and chatting with Beyoncé Wannabe. So that left…

Rachel Berry. Puck honestly didn't know what he thought of her. Yes, he would rather light himself on fire than listen to her rants, but _damn_ that girl could sing. She was talented and _Jewish_ (as his mother constantly reminded him), and those short skirts and high socks made her a freaking hot Jew like him. She called him Noah. Still, she was a social reject, so the Puckleberry dream had died long before it had a chance to live. And yeah. He missed her. A whole fucking lot. Repeat that to anyone, though, and he swears to Jew God he'll kill you.

Puck's eyes checked the front row again. And again. And again. His eyes were going bad, he realized, cause there was no way Miss Perfect Student ditched. She was _always_ here first, and was usually the one who helped Schue find enough bottles of gel.

Before he could think about it too much though, Schue finally decided that he couldn't fit any more shit into his hair, and began class.

"Anyone absent, say _estoy_!" Schue lamely joked. The class let out its usual groan of appreciation for a fantastically terrible joke.

"Berry's gone."

The class swiveled their heads simultaneously to stare at the mohawked football player. Puck shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"What? No one else noticed that she wasn't pissing off the world?" he muttered, trying to explain away his interest in the diva. Thankfully, everyone accepted this, though Mr. Schue frowned at Puck's language. _Like he could stop me from saying whatever the fuck I wanted_, Puck thought rebelliously. Around him, people took his lead and started trash-talking Berry. Out of the blue, he suddenly felt a weird sense of guilt and anger, and a bit of protectiveness for his Glee-mate and ex-girlfriend. _Seriously, Puckerman, what the fuck? You sure you still got your balls down—_

A large screech of feedback from the P.A. system interrupted his inner monologue. Some people dramatically winced and held their hands to their ears as the sound reverberated off the walls and destroyed all senses of human hearing. _Pussies…_ Puck sneered.

Figgins' voice suddenly echoed in the classroom.

"Please pardon this interruption, but this is a very grave situation."

All the students sat up a little straighter. Unlike some of his previous announcements, Figgins was being deadly serious, and had no hint of joking in his tone. Some serious shit must have gone down.

"It is my sad duty to inform the faculty and student body of the death of one of our own students this morning. A car hit this young sophomore as she was walking to school. She did not make it through the ride to the hospital, and died about half an hour ago. Her family informed me of this just a few minutes ago, and requested that we hold a short memorial for this talented young lady today. These wishes shall be honored. All classes are dismissed. Ms. Pillsbury is always available for grief counseling. Today is the day we will remember as the day we lost a star." There was a short pause, as Figgins obviously struggled to find more words. "Though all of you seem to live in different worlds, today we live as one family. We have lost a sister. We will grieve as one family." With that, the P.A. screeched into silence.

Puck felt a hole opening in his chest as he stared at the empty seat. Flashes of coldness ran up and down his body.

Gone.

**Gone. **

_Gone._

Dead.

He couldn't believe it.

The class was silent. Some of the girls were crying. Quinn had her head bowed as she folded her hands together and prayed. One of the hockey douches even had the respect to take off his hat and put it over his heart.

It made no sense to Puck. Rachel was a star. She would graduate McKinley, move to the Big Apple, take Broadway by storm, and win Tony's. She was unstoppable. She was determined. She was _alive_.

But not even his inner convictions could take away from the glaring truth. Rachel's absence. The empty seat. The dead girl who they would mourn today. It added up too perfectly, like one of those evil Algebra II problems. Inside, he had gone form cold to burning to frozen. Suddenly, he wished he wasn't a badass. He wished he wasn't popular. Heck, he kind of wished he was Kurt, so he wouldn't look bad if he started crying his heart and soul out, like he truly wanted to. He was being ripped apart, but his status meant that he couldn't show it. He absolutely could not allow anyone to know how much he loves Berry, and how he feels soulless without her. It was a fucked up world.

_Goodbye to you, my trusted friend._  
_We've known each other since we're nine or ten._  
_Together we climbed hills or trees._  
_Learned of love and ABC's,_  
_skinned our hearts and skinned our knees._  
_Goodbye my friend, it's hard to die,_  
_when all the birds are singing in the sky,_  
_Now that the spring is in the air._  
_Pretty girls are everywhere._  
_When you see them I'll be there._  
_We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun._

Suddenly, he felt someone elbowing him in the side. He looked up listlessly at Karfosky. The jackass somehow had the indecency to be grinning.

"So Scary Berry kicked the can, huh?"

The class's reaction is something Noah Puckerman will be proud of the rest of his life. All the jocks (even Karfosky's teammates) instantaneously jumped him, as the girls started screaming bloody murder at him. Quinn was yelling something about being non-Holy Cross, Santana and Brittany screamed an impressively long string of curses, Mercedes bellowed at the hockey player with an extra amount of attitude, and Tina started screaming in Chinese.

Puck tuned out all of that. All he could see was red, and all he could hear was the sound of his fists colliding with every tangible surface on Karfosky. He felt a savage satisfaction as he heard the other boy yell out in pain each time he made contact. It wasn't until red started spattering the floor that Schue finally stepped in and pulled the boys apart.

"SHIT!" Karfosky held a hand to his nose, which was streaming blood.

"DON'T _EVER_ DISS RACHEL IN FRONT OF ME!" Puck bellowed.

"What was she to you, Puckerman?"

"I LOVE HER."

Silence hit the classroom like a ton a bricks. Even Mr. Schue's mouth was hanging open. Obviously he hadn't gotten around to brushing this morning…

Puck straightened up. He had said the words, and he wasn't taking them back, even if the world burned down.

"She's dead." Karfosky stated coldly.

Puck felt that cold sensation again, freezing the place where his heart used to be. His mouth opened and closed. Words escaped him.

She's dead. What now, Puckerman?

_But the hills that we climbed  
were just seasons out of time.  
Goodbye, Papa, please pray for me,  
I was the black sheep of the family.  
You tried to teach me right from wrong.  
Too much wine and too much song,  
wonder how I get along.  
Goodbye, Papa, it's hard to die  
when all the birds are singing in the sky,  
Now that the spring is in the air.  
Little children everywhere.  
When you see them I'll be there.  
We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun.  
_

"Guys…" Mr. Schue's voice came drifting in-between the two teens. Puck turned away bitterly.

"Yeah." He agreed. "She's dead."

A soft, tentative knock sounded on the door.

"Tina, can you get that?" Schue asked.

The Asian girl got up, tears still streaming silently down her face to open it.

She screamed.

"Oh my goodness, Tina! What happened?"

Every head in the class whipped to the door in shock. No. Fucking. Way.

"Rachel?" Tina whispered.

"Oh no, did I miss a big test? A quiz? My dad's car had a flat on the way here, and we had to wait _forever_ to fix it, and it caused me to have my first Tardy of the year… Oh no! Was the homework packet due today? Because I have finished all except one problem, and was planning on researching the mountains of Spain in more detail tonight at the library after my vocal lesson, and –"

Puck strode across the room, roughly shoving Tina out of the way, to a soft protest from Mike. In one motion, he reached down and captured the talkative brunette's lips in a kiss. A soft "awww…" came from the girls behind him, but he didn't give a damn. His girl was alive. That was pretty kiss-worthy in his book.

After a minute, Puck broke the kiss. Rachel stared up at him in wonder and disbelief.

"Noah?"

He smiled. "I'm really glad you weren't absent today Berry…"

In the background, Figgins came on the P.A. again, announcing the funeral date for Haley Clapp, a "brilliant cross-country star." Quinn and the others began to pray, thanking God that Rachel was okay, and sending hope that Haley would find peace in the Everlasting Kingdom of God.

_But the wine and the song,_  
_like the seasons, all have gone._  
_Goodbye, Michelle, my little one._  
_You gave me love and helped me find the sun._  
_And every time that I was down_  
_you would always come around_  
_and get my feet back on the ground._  
_Goodbye, Michelle, it's hard to die_  
_when all the bird are singing in the sky,_  
_Now that the spring is in the air._  
_With the flowers ev'rywhere._  
_I whish that we could both be there._  
_We had joy, we had fun, we had seasons in the sun._  
_But the stars we could reach_  
_were just starfishs on the beach..._

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**A/N: Song by Terry Jacks- Seasons in The Sun. Drive safe, people! Reviews are love! :)**


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